StarCraft: The Old Gods and the New
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The Ihan-rii considered themselves to be the true descendants of the xel'naga. But having entered Ulnar, having found no salvation in its now empty halls...what now?


**The Old Gods and the New**

Azarath had never stepped foot on Ulnar until now.

Ulnar. The Cradle of Life. The Temple of Unification. The place from which the Great Markers had seeded the universe with the building blocks of life. This place between realities, existing when by all rights it shouldn't. This edifice of living stone, dwarfing anything the Firstborn themselves could create. This Hallowed Grounds, this Sacred Land…long since defiled while the Ihan-rii slept.

He could sense the emotions of his fellow protoss as he walked through the halls towards the assembly point. It had broken his hearts to learn that others had come to this place before them – lesser species, along with their kindred, all of whom had turned Ulnar into a battleground. Stories had reached their minds as to the rise of a false god, and the false protoss who had followed him, before turning their backs on his darkness and embracing darkness of another kind. They knew of the lost ones who had polluted Aiur with their presence, and were again drifting towards strife. Having returned to their old homeworld, having seen the aliens defile it with their taint, the Ihan-rii had sought out this place. And like the leader of the so-called Daelaam, found no salvation.

The blood of tens of thousands coated these halls. And beyond them, in the innermost chamber, the bodies of the gods themselves. Slaughtered in their rest by a traitor. Their bodies broken, and their spirits closed off from the Ihan-rii. They, the children of the Makers, the ones who were promised ascension, had been left alone in this forsaken universe. Hounded by those of the Secondborn, betrayed by their false kindred, and targeted by baser animals who had skulked out of the shadows while they rested in their ships of stone. Small wonder, Azarath reflected, that so many had given into despair. He could see it in their eyes. He could sense it in their thoughts. Even the warriors carried themselves with far less grace. Even as he walked towards the assembly point, he found himself slouching likewise. He had slept for aeons, and the gods had died. The one whose beacon had awakened them was now treated with reverence by their false kin. And even at the assembly point itself, only Zaul awaited him.

"Where are the others?" Azarath asked.

His fellow commander's eyes twinkled. "You're early," she said.

"As are you."

Zaul's eyes flashed and she looked down over the caverns of Ulnar. At the Ihan-rii that roamed them, moving like lost f'tils. "I have better things to do then skulk in the shadows, walling in despair." She returned her gaze to Azarath. "As do you, apparently."

Azarath cast his mind out, trying to connect with Zaul's, but her thoughts were well shielded from his.

"If anything, I'm glad you're here," Zaul continued. "We need to talk, and the others who have yet to arrive will dither as they always do."

Azarath eyes flashed. Indecision had cost them victory at their homeworld as much as the flow of aliens. The Ihan-rii had been so shocked that lesser species would taint the planet that they'd been caught off-guard by just how many of those species there were.

"We are at a crossroads," Zaul said – she began to pace back and forth. The light in her eyes dimmed, and Azarath could see her claws cut deep into her skin as she formed a fist. "We have slept, we have awakened, we have emerged. And in doing so, we have found that the gods have departed this plane. We have discovered that our people are scattered and divided, some of them forsaking worship of the gods entirely, others following their own perverted path."

"The Tal'darim?" Azarath murmured.

"Of course," Zaul said, her eyes flashing at their mention. "They worshipped a false god for millions of years, and even after learning of his deception, what have they done but remain ghosts among the stars? Like nayars, scavenging for the meat of heshels."

"But the Daelaam are no better," Azarath asked.

"Khalai and Nerazim? False names for a false people with false beliefs. They deal death, rather than honouring life as befits the Great Teachers."

"The Great Teachers have met their end," Azarath said. "I'd ask what now, but it's the same question on the minds of every Ihan-rii."

Zaul nodded. "A question asked by many, for it is indeed a fair question to ask. Question is, what answer shall we give them?" She gestured to the markings of the assembly point – four remaining ones, for six was the number of commanders of the Ihan-rii. Two for the thumbs of a protoss, two for their fingers, both repeated twice over for each hand. And above them all, the Master Forger, who was now on the _E'yl_. He who had remained encased in stone, as his children explored the Cradle of Life.

"I ask the question," Zaul said. "And before our counterparts get here, I propose this – we leave the gods behind. We forge our own path."

Azarath stared in shock. "What you are suggesting is…"

"Heresy?" she asked.

"Not the word I would have chosen, but-"

"A word within your mind, blazing with thought that even a youngling could see it," she snapped. "But ask yourself Azarath, who are we?"

He just stared at her.

"Who are we?" Zaul repeated.

"Ihan-rii," he murmured. "What else?"

"Ihan-rii. A name used by the Great Makers themselves. A title befitting them more than 'xel'naga.' We share our name with our gods, and with the gods now gone, what does that make us?"

_Vagabonds? _Azarath wondered.

"We are the gods now," Zaul said. "Ulnar is ours. We possess technology that stems from the creations of gods. And if the tales of ascension are true, then we must better ourselves, not turn our eyes to the stars like the dreamers of old did."

Azarath's eyes dimmed, as the muscle around them narrowed. "You speak of many things Zaul. To put forward the notion of changing our entire system of belief-"

"Not change, but refinement," Zaul said. "Scarce different from the Tal'darim – they end worship of their false god, but otherwise continue on as normal. And consider this, Azarath – if we are the children of gods, are we not masters of our own destiny? Are we not free to shape the universe as we see fit?"

Azarath had no answer. And even if he did, he would have kept it to himself as the other commanders approached.

_Consider it, _whispered Zaul, addressing him through a direct telepathic burst. _When the speaking begins, when egos rise, when ambitions fall, consider my words, so that when our plans are presented to the Master Forger, we may be at the forefront of a new order._

_Our plans? _He shot back.

_Of course. No god rules alone._

Azarath said nothing. He closed off his mind from Zaul, and uttered pithy greetings to the other commanders. All with their minds shuttered, but their eyes telling him that they too were as disturbed as this revelation as he was. And thus, the question, of what they did now. Mourn old gods?

Or, as Azarath began to wonder, rise to become the new ones?


End file.
